


Singing-Lady

by sugarby



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged Up, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, F/M, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarby/pseuds/sugarby
Summary: Ironically, Adrien hadn't planned anything past just finding the opportunity to say a single word to her. He had courage but he needed a casual, non-creepy way to introduce himself. Now his plan has gone from one to one-hundred.(a.k.a Adrien enjoys her singing every night, but this night goes a bit differently).





	Singing-Lady

**Author's Note:**

> *This is my first ML fic, hope it isn't too bad ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

****Adrien’s firm thoughts are that she has a lovely voice, the kind that’s light but strong enough to carry lengthy notes. And she’s pretty, the natural kind make-up does little to improve, the sweet kind like a first love framed in memory. He guesses she’s near his age—must be to be permitted to entertain in a bar. Of all the places. She has a voice that can take her further than her bedroom, further than privately in her shower, definitely further than an establishment where drunkards vary.

He isn't seeing her for the first time. No, that moment has been engraved, it stands out from the rest. On that day, in that precise moment, numerous questions entered his mind about who she is, what she likes and dislikes, about why it took so much of his short lifetime to find her.

Adrien comes in to the bar and most times, he remembers what lead him There. His father let him down (as he tends to) a couple months back on his nineteenth birthday. Of the legal age to drink but not knowledgeable in the best bars to patron, he chose the one that asked for his attention with its neon signs. He flashed his ID to skeptical eyes and knocked back his first drink, his second and third. It burned but he was too disappointed to care much. The fourth was softer for the oncoming migraine. Then he finally noticed her singing in the background as she stood under a spotlight on the stage. She lifted his sunken heart on that bad evening and he’s returned since when he can. He’s wanted to talk to her, too, just to talk but never has.

“Please, for the last time, I’m not giving you my number.”

Adrien holds his cup in a paused pose. He honestly can’t believe what he’s hearing, what’s happening. He looks over his shoulder to the stage, where she’s just concluded another song, but instead of packing up, some guy is real close, neglecting decency and personal space.

“Look, Sir, I-I appreciate you listening to my song—”

“Of course, but I wanna get to know you, cutie.”

She yelps, surprised by suddenly being grabbed, and it’s enough. 

Adrien puts his cup down and pushes himself back on his stool, hopping off in the ringing echo of the screech it made. He heads toward the harasser, who looks a bit older, and grabs his arm that’s grabbing the singer’s. "Hey, Sir," he says. “ I'm positive this lady asked you to leave her be."

"Shove off."

"Don't think I stuttered. Leave her be and things don't have to get messy here."

“The only thing that's gonna get messy is you, kid. What's your deal anyway, huh? Tryna' play the hero, save the girl? Maybe you're not so different from me, eh? Why else would you care for this lady?"

"Because, Sir, she's—she's my girlfriend." Adrien says before he considers his words properly. In his peripheral, he sees the singing lady's surprise on her face. He hopes she doesn't instantly write him off badly now. "Now I've asked you to let go but if you're gonna persist—"

"How do I know you ain't lying through your Goddamn baby teeth, kid?”

"I'm _nineteen_ , for your misinformation. And if I’m lying, there’s no way she’d let me off with doing this.” Adrien leans far enough to reach Singing-Lady’s hand, quickly mouths pleas and encouraging words to convince her to go along with him, and just like that, she accepts his hand in hers like they’re a steady couple. Ironically, Adrien hadn't planned anything past just finding the opportunity to say a single word to the her. He had courage but he needed a casual, non-creepy way to introduce himself. Now his plan has gone from one to one-hundred.

The man sticks around seconds longer to make up his own mind about how plausible their couple-act is, and it seems believable enough for him to grunt in defeat and leave them to it.

She looks at Adrien and he begins worrying. Maybe she didn't like it. Maybe she’s actually already taken by someone lucky. He hadn't thoroughly thought it through but figured it would do the job of dissolving the situation and it did. "...Sorry. Kinda acted on the spot. You okay?”

“Yeah, Okay I’m—” She gasps. “I-I mean I’m okay! _I. Am. Okay_! Thanks for stepping in to help.”

“Can't leave a pretty damsel in distress to fend for herself now, can I? Wouldn't be right."

"Sure…? If I was a damsel in distress but I'm not either of those two."

"Hey, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm just glad you're not hurt."

"Thank you, again, but I could've handled that guy on my own." She defends because in the twenty-first century they’re in, women are capable of plenty and should be credited when it’s due. She was trying to be kind by not kicking that guy in the nut-sack.

"It sort of looked different from where I was sitting."

"Perhaps that's your drink impairing your senses."

Adrien glances back to his glass, half-filled. His estrangement with his strict, workaholic father hasn’t made him dependent on alcohol just yet. “Yeah, so I have a drink or two but I’m not going to apologize. _This is a bar_.”

It doesn’t seem to matter either-way to her, and she only sounds more annoyed, “I know the place I've been singing in twice a week for months now." Singing walks back over to the stage to pack up, shortening her microphone stand and such—following the lead of the hired band behind her.

Adrien hangs his head, shamed, but eventually drags himself over, “I didn’t mean—sorry. Sometimes I say stupid stuff.”

She thinks she really ought to just ignore the boy or not forgive him completely. But she does appreciate his coming to help. It's low but there could've been a chance that even with her learned martial arts, her small stature wouldn't have been a match against the muscular drunkard bothering her.

"You have a really nice voice..." Adrien’s foot kicks out and he rubs an arm, he clears his throat. "I've watched you perform a couple nights and you always sound great to me.”

“Wow, way to make a girl feel she has expectations to meet.” She smiles with pride. “Thanks. Is name my— _my_ _name is_ Marinette. So how many nights?”

"Sorry?”

"How many nights have you watched me perform? N-Not that it’s _why_ you come here, like, the _only_ reason! Shoot, I—”

“This is my twelfth time. Not _in a row_ —I don’t always come here, ‘cause I’m not always allowed out, but sometimes I do come and manage to catch you before you finish.”

“Do you get grounded a lot? I can totally relate. I study hard but sometimes I’m dealing with other things, you know?”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s my father. He’s a little overprotective. I can help you study any time.”

"I might just have to take you up on that." Marinette’s laughs and Adrien counts his blessings. She crouches to grab her bag, then puts it over her shoulders. “Well, this is me done for tonight and ready to go home. But I think I owe you something for ‘saving’ me before.” She waves goodbye to the bar-owner, the bartenders and familiar patrons at the counter with Adrien following behind. Outside, she sharply turns on her heel and starts walking backwards like a giddy, high-school student might. “I know this bakery—it’s not far—that sells the best pastries.”

“Do you now?” Adrien, beside her, asks even though he one-hundred percent believes her.

Mariette nods, “I do. But I should be honest and tell you I’m partially biased since my parents run it. Doesn't make what I said about any less true, just...it’s fair you know now so you don’t call me a liar later.”

“I would _never_.”

“I’m counting on my Papa to give you more pastries than you can manage and for my Mom to talk your ear off. Feel free to make a spontaneous and highly suspicious exit whenever.”

“Meeting the parents on the first date huh?” Adrien’s grinning hard as he walks beside her. So much is happening so fast in one night. He nudges her, “You must _really_ like me.”

“Oh, _don’t_ be that guy.”

“What, the guy you bring home to your parents for their approval? Oh, come on,” Adrien nudges her again and when she doesn't respond, he leans his weight over so she’d half carrying him. It gets a smirk out of her. “We make a pretty decent team. We took care of that guy.”

“But which one of us is which in that super-duo?”

“I’ll settle for decent since you’re taking me to get pastries. The least I can do.”

“You sure you’re not being too modest?”

“Positive”

Marinette shoves him away, laughing, “Of course you are, Adrien.”

"...I just remembered I never told you my name, so how...”

Marinette raises a brow at him. “That’s a joke, right?” She scans the street, finds what she needs and presents it with open arms. It’s a lamppost with a poster advertising fashion and the model is unarguably Adrien. “You’re plastered all over the place. A girl in my textiles class devotes every sentence to you. And I have actually seen you in the bar before, tonight’s not the first time.”

Adrien’s embarrassment for being so absent-minded of his own modeling profession should be avalanching over any real thought or other emotion. But he can feel the swell in his heart. She had noticed him before. _Noticed_ him.

“And no, I wasn’t _checking you out_.” Marinette adds, in case it was crossing his mind and she’s right, it was about to. She feels slightly embarrassed talking about it now and to him of all people. “Of course I know you, your father’s only one of my fashion icons. And it’s just…” feeling exposed in her honesty, she shyly tucks hair behind her ear. “It’s nice to see you watch me so...like I’m so important.” When Adrien doesn't say anything—pardon him, because he doesn't know what he can say in this moment—Marinette forces a cough out. “U-Um, so, anyway, my bakery’s family is the best. I-I mean my _family’s_ _bakery_ is the best! It’s awesome! Yeah, pe-people love it!”

Adrien leaves her to settle down. She hasn't been this energetic in front of him until now and...he that’s probably good. She’s more comfortable. She’s cute. Bright smile, blushing cheeks and her eyes on anything but directly him. He happily follows her along to her family’s bakery, betting her that he’ll love it too.


End file.
